Gordon cleared his throat but said nothing further.
“That…” Darshan glanced from one brother to the next. Shock wiped his mind, sending him adrift. “Sorry, I believe I misheard there. You mean they were killed for loving other men?” Was Hamish really suggesting that, had either of them been born in those times, then they would’ve been hunted and slain?
“Aye,” Gordon replied.
“I honestly have no idea what to say to that.” There had been no such restrictions in Udynea, not even when the empire was young. “How old are these scriptures?”
“Me mum was a wee lass when the law was finally struck from Clan Decree. I reckon it’s been about five decades. A lot of folks dinnae care much about who other folk are sleeping with, providing they keep their heads down like everyone else. But there’s plenty who are nae so forgiving.”
“Clearly.” Enough to use him as target practice, at the very least. “I…” Even knowing the wound was gone—the trace of its entry fading the longer his magic worked at the spot—he still ran a finger across his chest. It could’ve just as easily been his heart. There was no coming back from an injury as grave as that.
“He’s awake,” Zurron called.
Wiping the greasy residue of sausage off his fingers, Darshan stood to join the others at the elf’s side.
The guard sat against the tower wall, surveying their surroundings. His greying brows lifted upon spying the pile of bodies before sinking to their lowest. “So,” he snarled, his dark gaze settling on Darshan. Perhaps it was the murderous ire warping his face, but he seemed to be a good few decades younger than the other guards. “You survived at the expense of me men.”
“Never you mind him,” Gordon said, squatting between the man and Darshan. “You mentioned receiving a message from your queen. Was that the truth?”
“And what happened to it?” Hamish added.
Darshan bit his tongue. He was certain of the answer there.
“Aye, your highness. A pigeon arrived a few days ago, likely nae long after you lot started your wee journey.” He grinned broadly at Hamish, showing a row of mostly gaps with a few teeth. “It said to burn the message afterwards, so I did. All right and proper. Cannae fault a man for following his queen’s orders.”
Gordon jerked the man’s head around with a tug of the beard. “What did the message say?”
The man harrumphed, further ruffling his beard. “I already told you.”
The older prince folded his arms and continued to silently glare at the guard.
Those dark eyes clouded with uncertainty. “I spoke nae lies. We were only following Queen Fiona’s order. Find the ambassador and escort him.”
“As what?” Darshan snapped. “A corpse?”
The man spat in Darshan’s direction. “Filth like you deserve death. Your kind are poison, spreading your corruption across the land, sickening everyone you touch.”
“And what would you have told that queen once I turned up dead?” Darshan enquired.
The man shrugged. “Bandits… Bears… Boars… There’s plenty of mishaps that can happen to the unwary traveller.”
“I’ve heard enough, Gor,” Hamish said. “Do it.”
Gordon opened his mouth as if to object, then closed it and withdrew a slim dagger from his back sheath.
“Do?” the guard demanded. Panic widened his eyes. “Do what? You cannae harm me. What would you tell the queen?”
“You knowingly injured,” Gordon replied, laying a hand on the man’s head. “And attempted to kill, an imperial ambassador who also happens to be a prince of the Udynea Empire. They are our allies and that means you wilfully committed treason.”
“This is nae Udynea,” the man growled. “The only treasonous ones here are you for letting this filth freely wander the lands.”
“May you be granted all the mercy you show others.” Gordon plunged the dagger into the man’s neck, holding it there even as the guard jerked and only removing the blade when the man had stopped moving. “Throw him with the others.” He stepped back, letting the body fall to the ground.
Blood continued to pour from the wound, staining the grass as Zurron and Sean hefted the leader onto the pile of bodies and wood.
“Light it,” Gordon commanded.
Darshan breathed deep and focused on the straw packed around the wood. He hadn’t regained as much energy as his healing had burnt through, but with luck, he would need only a spark. The air grew hot. Thin curls of smoke, almost indistinguishable in the haze, drifted up from the straw.
Then, with a mighty whump and a billow of pale grey smoke, the whole pyre flared to life.
“By smoke and flame,” Gordon said as the fire twirled and danced before them. “I cast you from the Goddess’ bosom. Through dust and char you are condemned to wander the endless darkness of the ether.”
They stood vigil as the pyre burned. Darshan maintained a tentative hold on the fire, manipulating the intensity to a furnace-like heat. The air all around it shimmered in the dull afternoon light. The wood crackled and snapped, not quite masking the sizzle of flesh. He took care to manipulate the wind, too. Not a terrible amount, just enough of a gust to feed the flames and keep the stench from invading his nostrils.
When there was nothing of the guards but ash, they smothered the embers and mounted their horses. Whilst it would’ve been more convenient for them to use the tower’s facilities, especially with dusk approaching, none of them had been at all keen to sleep where dead men had lain.
“We’re going to be in so much trouble when we get back,” Hamish mumbled as they returned to the road.
“Sounds like we already are,” Gordon replied. “I just hope Mum hasnae done something foolish.”
“Perhaps this was all a misunderstanding,” Darshan suggested. He certainly hoped so. Whilst the idea of someone plotting the end of his life wasn’t new by any measure, that a foreign queen sought his death carried complications he didn’t want to think about. “I doubt she would seek to throw her people into a war.”
“Nae rational ruler would
